Sunday, 11 May 2014

One of the first clues something was amiss at the back end of last year was the diet that never stopped. Me and the mrs had put on a few pounds over the summer so we decided to have a couple of months of watching what we eat and we duly started to shed the weight and got back to where we wanted to be. However my weight kept falling, and falling...

I'm looking at my weight records and on the 13th of September when I stopped dieting I was 84kg; as of last week I was down to 72kg*. My cancer is hungry and keeps nicking my food, the little bastard.

Anyway one of the side effects is that none of my clothes fit. It's not just the waistline either which has dropped from a 36/38 to a 32 but it's the everything above the waist as well; t-shirts that were comfortably baggy now feel like you're wearing a tent, jackets don't close in the middle and to work would have to have internal fastenings where your nipples are. I put on some summer trousers the other week, took two steps and they fell down by ankles - which maybe a good look if you're a gangster rapper but you look a twerp if you're a late 40's white computer programmer. Likewise I put one of my favourite jackets on and Mrs D said "you look just like a kid who's trying on his dad's clothes"; she was right, it actually made me look unwell and I may as well have had a big neon sign pointing at me saying "Cancer Weight Loss Dude"

So I went shopping. I don't like shopping, I like clothes shopping even less.

Mind you with a way smaller frame I found all those fashionable clothes they didn't make in lard-arse dragon sizes will now fit so we had a go at 32 waist skinny fit jeans and blue and white stripy french onion-seller shirts... no Dragon, you looked like a prat when you tried those in your 20's and you still look like a prat in them now.

I went with what I usually go for, outdoorsy active hiking up mountains with a touch of Our Man in Havana travel wear for the more formal side. Mountain Warehouse and Rohan absolutely love me**.

Of course this all costs money, they don't tell you how much this cancer lark costs when you get it but it's a not inconsiderable amount of baubles from this dragon's hoard but at least I have a hoard. I hate to think how others must struggle with these unexpected costs when Mr C comes knocking at the door.

I'm doing a bit of offsetting by flogging my old stuff on eBay. Anyone want to buy a hardly worn dinner jacket? I'm throwing in a free cummerbund.

*That's 13st 3lb to 11st 4lb in old money

**Actually they love my credit card; to them I'm just the means to move it from my wallet to their tills.

Sunday, 4 May 2014

A rather sad week as the first real bastardness of the consequences of cancer came to pass. Nothing physical you understand but I sold my horses and now there's a silent set of stables and a paddock I need to get my ride on mower to keep the grass short.

I'd had lots of plans, was going to train Leo to harness as he'd just turned three and was ready to start working and I was going to get a horsebox and take Meadow to shows...

Fig 73: If you're gorgeous and you know it, clap your hooves

... but that's not going to happen. I'm flat on my back or in a hospital five days out of every two weeks and I get tired really easily so I couldn't give them the attention they need and they need to be doing some work rather than just standing in a field being ambulatory lawn ornaments. Fortunately they've both gone to good local homes and are right now being fussed, ridden, cuddled and generally pestered by little girls and probably wishing they were back in my quiet field being ambulatory lawn ornaments.

Going to miss them though, must go and plonk myself on the backs of other peoples horses so I can get my equine fix more often.

On the admin side we have had a step forward and one back. Going forward I'm now going to the little local hospital about 15 miles away to have my pump removed and the PICC line flushed and dressed; this is way better than having the schlep all the way down to Addenbrookes for what is a 5 minute procedure and is saving me a whole load of time, grief and petrol money. Going backwards the oncology day unit have been kicking up a fuss because they originally had me doing my clinic appointment and bloods taken and the chemo treatment on the same day. Now this confuses the poor little darlings at the NHS as its currently taking a life-age of men to get the blood work back that says if I can have the treatment or not* and so I have to have the clinic/bloods on one day and the chemo the next so it's two days of dicking about instead of one.

Bet that doesn't happen if you go private.

* Apparently there's a magic number of white blood cells and platelets you need